


Made Them Do It

by fresne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, M/M, Podcast, Sex Pollen, Triggers, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time, a succubi made them do it. Succubus? Succubuses? There were both. Neither. Sex pollen. Pie. Altered states. Bad idea altars.  Magic Arrows and spells. Free will tattering. A series of five moments with the world spiraling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up one morning with a light fluffy story in my head of what if something kept making Dean and Castiel have sex. Somehow, when I went to write it, the cotton candy because tangled. And so it goes.
> 
>  
> 
> [Mp3 podcast](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/made-them-do-it)  
> [Mp4 podbook](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/made-them-do-it-audiobook)
> 
> The following inspiration for this work and inspiration for my dialogue, where I am not directly quoting, because apt quotes are cool:  
> Alan Moore's run on "Swamp Thing"  
> Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Fear Itself"

The first time, a succubi made them do it. Succubus? Succubuses? There were both.

Dean had blinked himself awake from another dream of wielding hot hooks and sinking through cold racks to find Castiel perched on the edge of his bed. Watching. Dean glanced over at the other bed, but it was empty.

He was too tired to be pissed. Dean rubbed his face. Tasted the furry remnants of solitary whiskey on his tongue. Said the first thing that came to his mind, which turned out to be. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

"I don't know what that means." Castiel stood up. "There's a seal that's in danger of being broken. I will need your help."

Dean dragged himself up. "Good, I could stand to kick some demon ass," but he didn't really mean it. What he meant was the made up bed near the bathroom was more nothing and what did any of it matter. May as well do something he was good at. God's little blunt instruments.

Dean didn't have time to say anything more. Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder and constipated them to wherever. A white crypt lit with early morning light.

Long lean gray shapes curled around the crypt's weeping stone angel. Smiled mouths full of sharp teeth and struck sparks off the carved granite walls with long blue fingers.

Castiel yelled, "We must save the angel," which was sort of funny and then not as whatever he was going to say next was muffled by the shapes that flowed over him.

"Crap!" Dean lashed out with the knife, but they melted back. Laughter from wide sharp mouths. One bit his arm as it swirled past him, and that couldn't be good. No time for it now. He glanced at Castiel, who looked crumpled, but he came in that way. Dean pulled on bravado, "No biting on the first date, I'm not..." and that was as far as Dean got before Cas pinned him against a tomb wall. Clumsy like he was trying to merge into Dean. Awkward tastes along Dean's neck. The bite on Dean arm throbbed with the beat of his heart.

All Dean could think was there were too many clothes. Cas growled when Dean tried to push him back so he could get his shirt off. Dean's shirt. Cas' shirt. Someone's shirt. It was like trying to move a tree. A burning tree with hands scrabbling for skin and seeking lips and teeth that took small sharp bites through thin cotton and body grinding him into the hard stone at Dean's back. Brass plate digging into his shoulder blades and Dean didn't care.

Laughter, the crypt was full of laughter. Sharp and brittle that cut at Dean's skin and rattled his bones. Shapes shifted at the edge of his peripheral vision.

Dean kissed with his eyes open. The first light of day shining through the crypt's stained glass window and everything stained blue. The weeping stone angel. The angel moving against him. Wide wild blue eyes and Dean gave up on the coat. Worked on Cas' belt buckle, because Dean was goal oriented and he had a goal. There was a sharp click as it gave way. Cas gasped and whispered something in some language that Dean had no hope of knowing. It meant yes, more, more written in the drag of Cas' nails across the front of Dean's jeans.

A high thin screech scratched at his ears. Far less important than the next kiss of teeth and tongue. Something thick and wet splashed against their faces. Acid copper and cinnamon that burned a memory in his mouth. As if he could ever forget this.

Dean wanted to sink to his knees, but Cas held him up. Ground into him, just enough space between them to get a hand into Cas' idiotic pants. All clothes were stupid. Finally pushed his fingers through and wrapped them around Cas' dick and good to know he had one. Cas breathed in a sharp blade gasp against Dean's ear. Pushed his legs between Dean's. Ride the lightening frantic.

Light, the crypt was full of light. Angel in blue light. Wide blue eyes that blinked and finally got the idea, which seemed to be to shred Dean's favorite jeans, but what the hell, they were stupid and in the way. Hands traced words into his skin. Cas made this skin and it was empty everywhere he didn't touch.

Laughter and light and it was a race. Cas' fingers wrapped awkwardly around Dean's favorite part and Dean should have hoped he wouldn't accidentally rip anything off, but all he could think was, "Cas."

Growl out, "Cas!" into the little guy's stupid trench coat. Write his own rude words into the blaze of Cas' skin. Touching and tugging and twisting the skin of Cas' neck between his teeth. Let go. Move to another spot.

Laughter raining down, red and wet in the blue light and everything was this. Written in the tiny bitten kisses that marked, "mine," and frantic-touching fingers that scratched the words, "now" and "faster". Sharp cutting laughter. The nameless rush. Dean came in a rush.

He fell to the ground. Cas jumped back. Broken breathes and those wide blue eyes.

Thought rode back in as his knees slammed into the stone floor. Dean swallowed on a dry mouth. Whiskey breath and blood. The weeping angel statue was in pieces. A pattern of red spiraled symbols across the floor. Walls. Ceiling. Smoke flooded out and the rest was silence. Dean swallowed again. Tried to steady his everything. Cleared his throat. "Guess we screwed the pooch on saving that seal." He tried to make it a joke, tried to muster that devil-dont-care smile, but it was hard with his dick hanging out, sticky and sore and they were one more step to the world screwed to hell.

Cas stared at him like Dean was the devil. Blinked. Brushed a hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean was back in the hotel. Empty bed still empty. No angel either.

Dean sighed. Brushed his teeth, but that didn't clear the taste.

That was the way it went. The marks on Dean's skin took weeks to fade. They ached. Dull. Stupid. Reminders of broken crap, each of them. All of them. He wore even more layers. It didn't help.

Cas almost maybe said something, but Dean said, "Don't." Shook his head and said, "Just no." Which left nothing but staring with wide eyes. Dean told himself that was just Castiel.

Went with it never happened. Nothing was up with Sam. Everything was great. Which worked just great. Just great.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time, it was the flowers. Wild yellow flowers on a sun baked grassy hill overlooking the middle of the God-damned-swamp. Or it might have been the pie. Hard to tell. It might have been both.

Zachariah, like the asshole that he was, had sent them into the swamp out of Houma, Louisiana with a smirk and general refusal to say where Cas was. Seemed there was some sort of swamp plant thing living out there that wanted to end the world, which really would make the whole demon-seal thing pointless.

Whatever. Dean was fairly proud of the flamethrowers he threw together out of a couple of tubes, a blow torch and some propane tanks. Proud up until they tracked the Swamp Thing down and the Swamp-elemental-god Thing's insanely hot wife chewed them out for forty minutes straight over misconceptions based on appearance and how they should drive a more fuel efficient car and recycle and be locovores and tons of other crap. Her tree/husband stood there and looked, well, like a tree-guy. Taller than Sam, which was cool for about five seconds until they all started bonding over geek stuff. Seemed Swampy had thought he was a man who became a monster. Up until he figured out he was god, who thought was as man.

Sammy lapped it up. So much grateful puppy. Dean left him back there to find out why old Zach wanted Swampy dead. Even though there was pie. Sweet potato pie, but still, Pie! While Dean, all he got was to sit on the hillside with a flamethrower that he never even got to use.

There was a rush of wings, "A flamethrower would not have worked on the earth elemental. His body is a shell for his consciousness."

Dean looked over at the wide tree house on the other side of the lagoon. "They're having pie." He sat there. Let the words crash down like unmortared bricks. He could go back. Ruby probably would have stayed for pie. Another rush of wings and Cas was gone. Probably to go back to bitching for heaven and there was an apocalypse to stop and Dean was stuck with flowers and no pie, but then Cas was sitting next to him again. Cas handed him a wooden plate with a huge piece of pie on it. "It was sitting on the table." He very slowly winked one eye.

A grin spread across Dean. He felt full of the sudden awesomeness of this moment that had pie in it. This was where it could have been the flowers, because he hadn't had any pie yet, but he was hip deep in pollen. Dean took the plate. "You're the best," and because Cas was the best, he split the pie down the center. "Here you take half." Dean ate it with his fingers. Soft and sticky. And it was good. Really good. Full of flavors Dean'd never heard of. He chewed and breathed in the beautiful day and everything got brighter. Lines of light flowed through the world. Greens from the trees, which whispered their names at him. Yellows from the grass, which brushed his skin and shivered and sighed. All sorts of colors that probably had fancy names. Dean didn't know them. Soft. Beautiful. Flecks of light floated from the yellow flowers and landed on him. He looked up from the spreading colors of his own hand and there was Castiel. Shining like a flamethrower. He said, "Huh," because really what could he say to that. "Is that what you look like?"

The light that was Cas stared at Dean for a long moment. Sighed, flickered and whispered, "My father's creations are so beautiful."

"I really," Dean leaned forward, "don't want to talk about your father right now." Sipped the light. Tasted colors Dean couldn't name and it didn't matter. They were down with the flowers all around. The sunlight through the spreading oak trees and the dripping moss and the slick grass were nothing compared to Cas. Dean explored. Pushed aside everything in the way of light, while Cas opened him up too. Cas kept whispering, "Beautiful," and Dean was not in the mood for theology so he stopped words with his mouth. Soft, slow, alive. Closed his eyes and felt. Every part of him alive and some distant part of him wondered what the hell was in that pie. Or maybe it was the flowers. Motes of slow light he could feel filling him up. Pulsing through his blood and he could hear his poor human heart beating faster. Listened. He could hear the crackle of lightening and he thought that might be Cas' heart. And he should be freaked, because Cas was so not human right now. Not ever. Spreading wings he could see when his eyes were closed. Not two, or twenty, but a hundred wings in all sorts of colors with names Dean didn't know. Sliding in and through each other in constant motion. Cas still at the center of it.

Dean kept his eyes closed.

Cas' hand print on Dean's shoulder burned like when it was new made. When Cas remade him. Dean made his own whispers then. Soft. "You gripped me tight." The hand that made the mark traced the hand print on his shoulder. Dean shivered even in the warmth of the day. Leaned into the touch that sank into him. Whispered, "Pulled me from perdition." The touch tightened. Nothing urgent. Everything urgent in the world was far, far away. All that mattered was this. The brush of hands. Wings wrapped around him and there was no part of him that was not being touched. Brushed and flicked with light feather strokes. And it seemed like he was made of light too. Broken light, full of dark spaces that Cas pushed and pulled into the sunshine air.

Dean's eyes were closed and the world was made of light.

Stretched out in the flowers and it was hard to tell where Cas began and he ended. Or maybe they were not in the field under stretching oaks with winding moss. Maybe they were in the sky, wrapped in warm wet clouds. Wind tossed. Lightening crackling around them. Through them. Pulsing, pushing, pounding and Dean didn't know what the hell was going on. Dizzy. Spinning even though he was stretched out in the field next to Cas. Or flying above the clouds and toward the sun. Merging with the whisper, "Beautiful." Gripped tight until he flew apart into the dark.

He woke up in the field. Fully dressed and covered in sparkles. "Well, fuck." He sat up and he felt like he should be full of aches or something, but he actually felt great. Better than great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Charged up. He wanted to go to a bar. A demon bar. Start a fight and knock everyone down with a flick of his fingers.

Castiel sat up and blinked at Dean. His hair stood out at weird angles. He was not sparkly. Apparently, only Dean got stuck covered in angel spunk. Castiel blinked some more at Dean. Looked slightly to the left. "Perhaps, I should have left the pie on the table."

"Yeah." Dean brushed at the flecks embedded in his jacket. Sneezed. "Could have been the flowers."

Castiel glared at the flowers. He said, "We should... I should. That could have had very bad consequences." He glared some more at the flowers that did not wither at his look.

"Go save the world." Dean waved him off like it was nothing. Was nothing when he went. Dean breathed in and held the air in his lungs as long as he could. Let it go. Shredded grass and flowers. Watched greasy grey-green water ripple.

"Hey, Dean." Sam stumbled over the hill. His shirt wasn't tucked in and his hair looked more like a rat nested in it than normal. He stopped, "Dude, you're sparkling." Then laughed, really laughed. Probably the pie.

The best defense was a good offense. So Dean said, "Whatever, dude. At least I didn't do a plant." Sam stopped laughing, turned bright red and all was right with the world. "It wasn't like that. We meditated."

"Uh, huh. Meditation where you got the Swamp god's wood up." Dean stood up. Stood still to give himself a moment as the world around him whirled. Just a little. "Is he more oak or pine?"

Sam flipped him off and took off across the field. Dean called after. "Got a lot of junk in his trunk?" Sam never did ask what Dean did to get so sparkly.

The sparkles washed off in the shower. Dean turned his face up into the falling water and wondered if he and Cas were going to pretend that this never happened too. If that was angel sex. If... he didn't even want to go there.

He didn't say anything the next time he saw Cas. Cas didn't say anything. Cas blinked. Cas stood inside Dean's space. Stared at him with wide blue eyes, but that was just Castiel.

But after that, sometimes then, Dean didn't dream of Hell. Sometimes he dreamed about hurricanes and sunshine. Woke up smiling. And kind of horny. But that was just the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third time, an evil haunted dorm made them do it and it had been a forever since the swamp. Since it all went to hell. More hell. Lucifer out of the pit and everything slowly falling down.

Bobby'd set them on to the place. Seemed an entire dorm just started doing it. Then two of the four cops who came in to investigate. Then three of CDC team. Just ripped off their hazmat suits and went at. Whole place was in lock down. End of the world. Could be anything.

Sam looked at Dean like he wanted to crack a joke before they went in. But he didn't. Dean didn't. Sam took the bottom three floors. Dean the top three. Didn't joke even then. Splitting up was called being adults and being careful. Or respecting the hell out of each other. Or avoiding each other. Dean was cool with that. Winchester family way.

Dean stumbled on the altar in a room on the "substance free" hall. By the looks of it, the students would have been better off doing drugs. Or had something dropped in their drink when they weren't looking. Ground zero for really juicy corpses in piles on the floor. Across beds. Stank worse a garbage dump in July. Echoes of the dead stuttering to not life in the places where they died. It's a wonderful life.

Heard the altar before he saw it. Someone had setup their mp3 player to run a porn soundtrack under the altar to... it looked like someone had taken statues for every sex god in the history of sex gods and dumped them on a table. Posed them going at each other while surrounded by cutouts from porn magazines. Dean shook his head. "Yeah, that was a good idea."

He swung his crowbar at the cheesy velvet draped box, but something had other ideas. Threw him against a wall. He got up fast, because he had some experience with being thrown into walls. Of course. The door slammed shut. A desk flew across the room at him, but it was flimsy plywood. He kicked it to splinters and headed back to the altar.

"Dean!" Cas yelled out from the other side of the door.

Dean called back, "Stay out there." He really did need to teach Cas how to listen. Because Cas was inside in a blink. He looked at the altar and said something like, "You need to leave here." All it took was his hand on Dean's shoulder and they were all over each other.

Dean held it together enough so they didn't fall on the bed where a couple of rotting corpses were currently decomposing it up.

Castiel slid his hands under Dean's shirt, so clearly he's been checking out the internet for porn since the last time. First time. Whatever. Castiel said, "There are powerful forces at work here."

"No, shit, Sherlock." Considered. "Columbo. Definitely, Columbo." Dean yanked Castiel out of that damn trench coat and went in for another kiss. "No shit Columbo. Always just one more thing."

Cas rumbled against his mouth. "I have told you before that I do not understand these references."

Dean didn't answer. Unbuttoned Cas' shirt, but left the tie, not because it was sexy. Not because of anything other than the altar. There was nothing good about this. Kissed his way down. At least there was no more thrown furniture. Pants from the mp3 player and Cas and Dean. All around them, the recent dead flickered in and out of unlife. Stuck in those last moments. It sounded like crying.

Cas curled his hands over Dean's shoulders. Stared down at him as he went on down. Dean'd never given another guy a blow job before, but it wasn't like he didn't know what he liked and judging by Cas' rumbled reaction, Dean was a sex god. He finished with a wet pop. Leaned back on his heels. "We're going to die fucking."

Castiel made his own journey into Dean's pants. "It is unlikely that I will die." Dean lifted his hips and Cas pealed off his jeans and underwear like skinning a rabbit, which was not great image, but with Cas licking Dean like an ice cream cone, whatever. Dean slid his hands through Cas' hair, and tried to focus on getting out of this room. Ended up stretching his legs wider to give Cas better access. Clearly, Cas didn't need to breath. Or gag. It went on forever. He tried to not think about what was going on. Feeling it. Focusing on the feel of being swallowed down by hot wet burning him up. Dean gave into it. Laughed bitterly as he came, because what else could he do. Cas whispered, "I will most likely remain here forever having intercourse with your dead body."

Dean rolled them toward the altar. "Fun." They managed to bump up against the thing before stopping completely. Nothing attacked them.

Unfortunately, the box everything sat on was a heavy plastic milk crate. With steel reinforcement. Hard at his back as they rocked against it. Dean had no clue how long they lay there going at it. The rest of their clothes were gone. Except Cas' tie and Dean's socks. They had holy oil. All the way from some altar somewhere holy and pure. Slicked it on hands and dicks and Cas didn't have a clue what he was doing. Made up for it with the power of persistence. Practice. Sometime around the second go round, Dean had this image of setting his ass on fire and Cas pistoning forever. Meat suit in reverse. Suddenly thought, said, "Is Jimmy still in there? What does he think about this?"

Castiel looked up. Alien tilted stare. Calm and unblinking. "He thinks that he is tied to the tail of a comet." Words sink. More bricks. Persisted on.

Persistence. They finally managed to knock over the altar and all the objects tumbled to the floor. Where they were. Every bit of skin ached. Like it had been rubbed for hours and it was possible it had been.

In between drowning kisses, Dean grabbed a statue and threw it at the window. Damn thing bounced. "Gah." Dean pounded his head back against the industrial carpet. Groaned in time with the mp3 player, with the dead, as Cas traced the line of his ribs. Dean felt every mark on his bones. "You throw it."

"That is not easy from this position." Cas paused his rough cat licks and rolled them so he was on his back. All the better for Dean to get in his own licks. Something shattered through the window. A weight loosened around Dean's chest. "Again." Something howled, but nothing threw them against a wall.

Faster now. Objects and art and Dean couldn't have cared less if they hit someone, although he kind of did.

Fell back panting as it all let go. The dead whispered one last time and stopped the autoplay. Dean lay there. Incapable of moving anything. Cas reached over and yanked the mp3 player off its speakers.

Dean said, "Thank you." Closed his eyes and lay there for forever. Mumbled, "Go Team Free Will."

"This was not a good demonstration of free will." Dean opened his eyes. Castiel was dressed. Dean was naked and Cas was dressed. In Dean's space. Dean could feel Cas' warmth like a hot pan that he'd forgotten to pick it with a towel. Didn't matter how much cold water he ran, it still hurt the moment he moved away from the sink.

"We're alive. It counts." Dean made himself move. Wasn't so bad. Nothing on being electrocuted. Mauled. Exactly like being electrocuted. Mauled. He didn't look at Cas. "Why're you here anyway. Shouldn't you be off..." he waved his hand at nothing. Pulled on his pants.

"I received your message and I thought that this had something to do with Lucifer." Cas was only a couple inches away.

"Nah, just a whole lot of stupid." Dean sat down in a chair on the far side of the room. Did not wince. Put on his boots. Paid close attention to lacing them tight. "Better get back to finding God." A whole lot of silence for a whole lot of lacing. Didn't look up until he heard the rush of Cas gone.

Went downstairs to find Sam.

They set fire to the place, because seriously, that was a whole lot of bad. Dean muttered, "Putting out fire with gasoline," because he was in a classics mood and lit the match. Didn't stay to watch it burn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The fourth time, it was a cursed arrow.

Cursed everything. Empty world without a Sam in it.

Dean made it all of six weeks at Lisa's. He plumbed her plumbing. He cleared her gutters. Tuned her car. Sanded her ceiling and painted the bathroom red. None of which was a sexual play on words. Drank whiskey and was quiet. Hugged her thank you until he stopped shaking. Let her hold him and brush her hand through his hair like a little snot nosed kid.

When his skin got to itching, she made him a sandwich and a thermos of coffee. Kissed him goodbye.

He drove away. Didn't drive anywhere. Didn't look for a hunt.

Found it.

Some sort of goat-deer-man packing six feet of long bow and swinging his junk in the wind. Dean was glad he only took an arrow in the leg. Knife still worked though. Something still worked. Sat down on a log after.

Stared at the arrow through his thigh. No one there but him to pull it out. Gritted his teeth and pulled out that sonofabitch. Bound his leg up as well as he could, but he was bleeding out but good. Picked up the damn bow for a walking stick, strung and all. Took the arrow too. No reason why not. Stumbled through miles of green on green on green. Hummed "Wherever I May Roam" as he went. Until he came to his baby. Dusty. Covered in tree crap. Smiled to see her waiting.

Smiled and looked back and he was back in that grove. Mound of rocks where he'd left goat-deer-dude. A tree with white bark growing from the mound. White rocks on the red dirt curved out in some sort of pattern. Sam would have known what it was. Sam was. Not thinking about Sam.

Walked back through the woods. Didn't hum this time. Back to his baby. Stepped forward and he was back in the grove. No mound now. Just a great big twenty million point buck standing there in the middle. And he'd had it with this shit. He had his very own arrow. Pulled back on the bow.

Wings fluttered. Castiel shouted, "Dean, no!"

Dean turned and he was back where he left his car, which was a turn in the right direction. Bow pulled back and there was Cas. Rumpled as always. Cas walked in a sort of circular pattern forward, right hand held out. "It's dead. If you kill it, then you will have to become it."

"Yeah, that made sense." Dean dropped the arrow and the bow, and took Cas' hand. Let him pull him right and left through the white rocks on the red dirt. Until he must be out, because Cas let go. Dean looked back, which was tempting fate, but that was Dean all over. There was no buck or rocks or tree. Well, there were trees, but no grove. He leaned against his baby and let out the breath he'd been holding. Laughed.

Cas in his space next to him and Dean laughed. Which turned on a pull of air, and Dean didn't cry like a little kid who'd lost the prize from the cereal box. Not like that at all. Cas didn't hold him. Didn't make, "Shh," noises like Lisa would have done. He was still and quiet in the middle of all that still. They leaned against his car in the middle of green nowhere and it was all wrong. Dean felt like there was still an arrow in his leg and it hurt.

Looked down and there still was an arrow in his leg and he laughed again. Snot and tears and blood. Cas looked at him with that head tilt of his and wide staring eyes. Dean wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for the arrow through his leg. Dean thought the hell with it. Leaned the few inches and kissed the angel leaning on his car. Put all the anger and confusion and the hell with it in that kiss.

At first Cas stood there like a tree. Four pounding heartbeats into that kiss, he was nothing like a tree. Silent woods, not even a bird, and Dean heard wings. Felt the brush of air where there were no hands, and hands too. When they came up for the air that Cas didn't need, Cas said, "This is not a safe place for this."

Dean grinned and opened the car door. Pulled Cas after him. It was a tumble of limbs and an arrow that hurt. Dean hissed and yanked it out. Again. Which probably hadn't the best idea, because there was blood everywhere. Cas touched the wound, and it was gone. Even the hole in his jeans. Dean wished Cas hadn't healed it. He wanted that hurt.

Let go of the arrow and kissed the angel. There in the backseat of his baby. Not enough room. Cramped and uncomfortable. Leaned back as far as he could go and put all the whatthehell he could in that kiss. A hamburger wrapper crinkled under his foot and a coffee cup crunched against his toe. Outside there was some sort of magic wood and Cas kissed him with his eyes wide open, which Dean only realized because he opened his own.

When they came up for the air that Cas didn't need, Cas tilted his head. He said, because why would he think to whisper in a moment like this, "Why don't you believe that you are worthy of saving?"

Which Dean.... Did. Not. Want. Not soft slow kisses in the backseat. He wanted fast and furious and forget. Cas tilted his head and traced some pattern Dean couldn't see around his eye and nodded to something. To that. Tumbled legs and arms and not enough space to shuck clothes. To do much more than hitch things out of the way and go. Heavy squeak of his baby's rear suspension to a fast furious fuck. Ride the lightening.

When they were done, Dean wrestled back into his clothes. Skin. Chewed on his lower lip, because now they probably had to talk. Talk about their feelings or something. Glanced over at Cas, who didn't quite smile at him. That Cas not-smile. Was gone in a flutter.

Which Dean guessed meant they didn't need to talk. Which was fine. Nothing to talk about. He leaned his head back on the seat. Held himself to hold it all in. The back was sticky and half that was dried blood. Cleaned it up with napkins from white paper bags.

Sat there for a good long time. Climbed into the front seat. Pulled into reverse and drove away from the green woods. He drove back along the back of the back roads. Not much more than flattened dirt between flat fields. Rooster tails of dirt pluming up behind him the long way.

Showed up at Lisa's door and asked her if he could stay a little longer. She brushed her hand along the side of his face. A reach. A touch. Made him and Ben PB&amp;Js with the crusts cut off.

Dean sat at her table and traced patterns on the side of his glass of sweet ice tea a good long while.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fifth time, a teenage witch put a wammy on them. Okay, so she stood there in her enormous bedroom and screamed at them to go fuck themselves then she waved a tiny wand at them.

Dean had ended up there when he and Sam... yeah, he and Sam. Sam different from his time below. Quiet. Still tall. Not talking about who or what and whatever. Picked up the research like he'd never gone. Pattern of cursed cheerleaders and pranks and Dean didn't really care.

Cas showed up when they tracked the girl to her parent's McMansion. He said, something. It had Sam nodding and Dean didn't really care. Felt like the grin would make his face fall off. Three of them standing on the porch. Going into danger.

Which was a teenage girl wearing too much black and a silly looking wand with a plastic looking green thing at the end. It wasn't plastic. Some sort of imperial jade power thing. Dean looked at Sam. Looked at Cas. Shrugged and kissed the angel in front of his brother, who dragged the protesting girl out of her own room.

Afterwards, Sam told Dean how he'd explained to the girl that her spell had caused a genuine angel to fall, killed an ass rainbow shooting unicorn, and maybe annihilated tinkerbell. Sam'd almost sort of smiled as he described how she'd sworn that she'd never-ever-ever do anything like this again. Then she got really breathy, Sam did a great teenage girl, and asked if the angel would be okay. Dean grinned enough for the both of them. Teased his little brother, who gave it back with a pretty good Dean macking on an angel imitation.

Later, Dean decided, finally maybe, that this was getting ridiculous and got a six-pack of beer. Good stuff, because damned if he was getting champagne, and gave his baby a tune up.

Cas showed up while he was gapping the spark plugs. Handed Cas a beer without saying anything. Cas took it. Stood there not moving. "Dean, I have located another remnant of Lucifer's followers," because that was how they were going to play it.

In all fairness, that was how they always played it.

Dean grunted. Took the beer back. Opened it. Handed it back to Cas and went back to what he was doing. "Dean, did you hear me?'

"I heard you." Dean kept working. When his baby was purring again, he opened his own beer. Leaned against his baby, sun shining down. Glanced at Cas, who hadn't had any of his beer. Waste of good beer. Dean took a good long swallow. Put the beer down on the cooler. Took back the beer, again, from Cas.

"What's wrong?" Which was sort of a valid question.

Dean sighed. Said, "Nothing, I just figure the universe is trying to tell us something." Kissed his little nerd angel. Let him taste beer with holy water in it on his tongue until it all came together-apart without curses at all. Rested his forehead against Cas'. Asked, "What does Jimmy think of all this?"

He felt Castiel's eyelashes on his cheek. Felt the stare. "We think that we're tied to the tail of a comet."

"Yeah." Dean looked up at the sky. "I get that."

The sunset that night was beautiful. The stars that fell as well. Long into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that, nothing made them do it again.

They did it all on their own.

Although, Dean did get the recipe for sweet potato pie. It was just pie. Which was the way pie should be.


	2. [podcast] Made Them Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time, a succubi made them do it. Succubus? Succubuses? There were both. Neither. Sex pollen. Pie. Altered states. Bad idea altars. Magic Arrows and spells. Free will tattering. A series of five moments with the world spiraling.

Set between S5 &amp; S6.

Length: Mp3, 14.1Mb, 40:13  
Music Credit: Metallica from S&amp;M, intros to Call of Kthulu, Nothing Else Matters, Master of Puppets, Wherever I May Roam, Until it Sleeps

[Archived Mp3 podcast](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/made-them-do-it)   
[Archived Mp4 podbook](http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/made-them-do-it-audiobook)

**Author's Note:**

> If after reading my fiction here, you would like to read more about me and my writing check out my profile.
> 
> References:  
> Sex the 1st: The [crypt](http://fiveprime.org/hivemind/Tags/metairiecemetery,neworleans) in the 1st section isn't really in Metarie cemetary, as that crypt in my head is several times the size, and granite not marble, but the blue of that tomb is what I was thinking of.
> 
> Sex the 2nd: Apparently, if I write sex pollen (this being the second) what I actually write is sex yams/sweet potatoes. In both cases, the source of the sexy tubers (although it could have been the flowers) involves the Swamp Thing. In this case, I've reunited Swampy and his wife Abby, because its funnier if she chews the boys out. And unlike in the end run of the 90s Swamp Thing, Swampy doesn't actually want to destroy the world. However, as with the comic, eating Swampy's yams of luuuve, you see the truth of a person. Which would be how Swampy and Abby have any sort of sex life. What with him being the elemental of earth and her being a person and all.
> 
> Sex the 3rd, it was a dorm (a la S4 Buffy) or a haunted mansion. The mansion would have allowed more beautiful rooms (still with dead people at their bachinal), but the dorm allowed for more people caught unknowing in the cross fire. Choice. Lack there of.
> 
> Sex the 4th: I had originally planned for all the sections to be "made to do it". Mind you the original section 4 was about 100 words long and had Castiel looking like a pin cushion. But it wasn't working for me, so it became this. The hunter versus the Hunter in the forest. A labyrinth of stones on the ground. In a maze, there are dead falls and tricks. Traps. A labyrinth is about the one way journey in. The one way journey out. There being no right way to walk it, but being perfectly possible to get lost in yourself.
> 
> Sex the 5th: Once 4 was not quite so dub-con, section 5 was sort of an echo of my initial idea of the story. Oh, look a hat. Drop hat. Have sex.
> 
> Then the end. So too pie.
> 
>  
> 
> And... if you like my writing, check out my profile for links to self published novels. Drop me a line and I can send you a coupon for a free e-version.


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